


Like Gasoline

by fringewrites



Category: Buzzfeed The Try Guys (Web Series)
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 11:06:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15750423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fringewrites/pseuds/fringewrites
Summary: After filming the first Rank King episode, Keith gets a bit of a fixation.





	Like Gasoline

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheseusInTheMaze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/gifts).



In the middle of filming the first Rank King episode, Eugene holds up a finger while swallowing down a burp. He’s got a fairly long line of beers stood up in front of him now, and they’ve started to take their toll. “I gotta take a piss,” Eugene announces flatly. He stands up from the picnic table and everyone relaxes as they anticipate that he’ll run inside the Fulmer house for a minute to relieve himself. To everyone’s surprise, he turns around, and makes for the garden fence _. Ugh, he’s gonna pee in the flowers._

 

Keith can’t help but to laugh a little bit. It’s a very drunk Eugene move. "You want us to uh...break for this?"

 

"Nah keep it in." Eugene waves a hand behind himself nonchalantly. Keith thinks he may be getting drunk. Maybe he should just pan the camera down and let Eugene get on with it before filming as regularly scheduled. But then…this could be some pretty funny content if they cut it in for a few seconds.

 

"You sure?" Keith asks out of chivalry more than anything.

 

Eugene's already tugging his fly down and then _oh_. The loud wet sound of Eugene’s waterfall of piss hitting the poor, innocent flower bed has started. “Sorry guys. Sorry, can you hear the pee?” Eugene asks looking back to everyone keeping up a steady stream that evokes a certain confidence that is very Eugene.

 

Keith can't tear his eyes away. Eugene’s body isn't facing him, he can't see anything. It's not as if he hasn't seen Eugene's dick before. Somehow this is more illicit than that. It's....hotter, Keith thinks and if that doesn't make his stomach drop. _“Fuck I’m too old to be discovering new kinks_ ,” he thinks to himself.

 

Eugene is just one year older than he is and tells Keith about new kinks he's into on a semi-regular basis. He wonders if Eugene's ever tried anything with...this. Is there a way to make any of this sexual? Keith is vaguely aware that people pee on other people for sexual purposes. He's heard the news regarding a certain R&B artist, and one regrettable U.S. President. Does he even like the idea of being peed on? His instincts say no. He just likes...watching Eugene do it, and that's not a known fetish as far as he understands fetishes. Then, he is relatively vanilla he thinks, all things considered.

 

Then just like that, Eugene is zipping up and adjusting the button of his fly. He turns with a satisfied sigh and returns to the picnic table to film. He’s about to pick the next beer out of the cooler beside him when one of the techs offers him some hand sanitizer. Eugene lets them drizzle it into his palm and rubs his hands together. Once his skin’s soaked it up he picks up the next beer and makes eye contact with Keith to confirm that he’s ready to roll again. Keith shakes his head to get it out of the clouds and points the camera more purposefully at Eugene.

 

The way Eugene tries to coach one of their techs into holding the lighting equipment to account for the changing light of the outdoors reminds Keith that he's far from alone. In fact there's another camera man, Zach, Ned, and Ned's father here for christ sake. He can't get hot about Eugene taking a piss in front of a fucking grandfather, that's just...against nature.

 

 

Eugene tosses the can of Busch around, really hamming it up for the camera. “You’re gonna make it explode on you!” Keith warns. Eugene just laughs, and reminds him of the motto of the Rank King _. Eugene is right. You’re wrong. Shut up._ It’s stupid, but he doesn’t pipe up again, just letting Eugene roll through his introduction of this next shitty beer.

 

When Eugene does pop the top of the Busch can, it seems like all will be well for a fraction of a second. Then the foam is hissing as it pours out from the mouth of the can and all over Eugene’s fingertips. Then it’s puddling onto the legs of Eugene’s pants through the gaps in the picnic table. “Keith! Keith!” Eugene calls out helplessly. Keith shakes his head.

 

“I told you this would happen!” he reminds him as he rolls his eyes.

 

Eugene looks around the table at his own legs. “Aww, I’m all wet!” Eugene complains. Looking down at his legs, Eugene is absolutely right. There are some wet spots on his thighs from the spillage of the can that Keith can see. Keith can feel the tips of his ears heating up as he stares into the darkened patches of denim tightly pulled over Eugene’s thighs. He shouldn’t be staring at Eugene’s crotch like this. He shouldn’t be so fixated on how damp it is. Is this another thing? Do people really get off on watching people piss themselves? Or is Keith just really a huge freak?

 

Keith bites the inside of his cheek and listens as Eugene takes a sip and starts going in, criticizing Busch’s flavor profile and over all presentation. It gets the bottom rank for the time being. Eugene starts sing-songing about wanting a breakfast burrito and Keith feels his heart rate returning to normal. He’s going to get through this, then get some rest, and possibly work out whatever weirdnesses he has later.

 

Keith watches as Eugene gets significantly more sloshed as the filming continues and they get closer to the final five beers. Ned and his dad retire inside, Zach joins them to grab a snack from the Fulmer's fridge. Eugene's eyes get glassy and he's slurring through his rankings. Just before the final beer he shimmies and giggles a little bit looking up at the camera. "I gotta pee again." Eugene admits and it shakes Keith out of his momentary spacing. He was admittedly letting himself get distracted with the muscle strain that was being tasked with holding the lighting shield.

 

"What's that?" Keith asks. Eugene's already getting up from the picnic table and turning on a heel to cross the yard. His walk is less balanced and he takes a longer time to get unzipped and unleash a long stream of piss. His bladder must have been really full. Keith gets to take his time too. He takes time to notice how the tight denim of Eugene's jeans cup his ass so nicely. He licks his lips as he thinks about how wide Eugene spreads his legs in his stance, and watches the clear stream run between them from behind. God he's leering. That’s just unacceptable.

 

 It feels like it takes them ages to get through the last beer and the final ranking. It’s a good thing they’re doing an outdoor shoot in the summer, because the sun is at least semi reliable. Everyone packs up around them and Keith has to help Eugene up from the picnic table. Eugene’s got an arm wrapped around Keith’s shoulder and one hand braced on his chest as they walk back to the Fulmer home.

 

“I’m so hungry, Keith. Are you hungry? We should get…we should get burritos,” Eugene suggests lazily slumping against Keith as they walk. Keith knows for a fact that Eugene is not that drunk. Still, it’s nice to have Eugene pressed against him like this. It’s comforting.

 

“Ned and Ariel made tacos inside,” Keith points out, voice stern like a dad. Eugene pouts and everything.

 

“Okay,” Eugene concedes as they open the door and walk through. It doesn’t take much to convince him. The tacos do smell amazing.  It’s hard for Keith to focus on as overpowering as it is. For now he focuses on sitting Eugene down at the dinner table where Zach and the Fulmers are already sitting. Zach laughs at Eugene’s expense, Keith can barely hear the groan Eugene offers in response as he makes his way down the hallway to the guest bathroom.

 

Once he’s sealed inside the bathroom he turns the sink on to its coldest setting. He makes a bowl with his enormous hands and collects a reservoir of cool water that he splashes along his face and neck. It makes him shiver, and his teeth chatter together but it does help his pulse stop racing for the wrong reasons. He looks himself in the mirror as the water droplets drip off the end of his chin, and he vows that he’s going to tuck all of this away for later, at a more appropriate time. He’s got dinner with his friends right now.

 

 

Keith did promise himself that he would put his weird new kink discovery aside for the time being, which implies that he had planned to unpack it at a later date. Life doesn’t always work out that way though. Sometimes your hands graze the tome on your shelf that’s been waiting to be read since you bought it, but you get pulled in yet another direction, and then years have passed with this unread book on your shelf. It’s kind of like that.

 

Keith’s been busy. At night, he begins to think over the implications of the fact that he still tries to reimagine Eugene’s boots in that wide stance in front of the flower bed, but he’s been so tired from work that he tends to pass out, and reliving it in his head doesn’t possess the same appeal as actually watching it unfurl in front of him. He’s starting to wonder if his memory is all together unreliable. Maybe it was the summer heat, or some other combination of factors that had him feeling so confused and horny in that moment. It all seems like a very specific and poignant thing to be confused about though.

 

So naturally, he doesn’t have the time to thoroughly address the issue over the next week it takes for them to get to a lull in their personal lives that allows them some much needed leisure time.  Eugene invites them all out to a bar, and Keith turns out being the only one that can make it. It’s not surprising. There’s a lot of shows Zach wants to see this summer and Ned has a baby now. So Keith and Eugene sit at the bar together amidst all the blue neon and thumping music, getting ready to down another shot, and Keith has only barely considered _that_ aspect of his attraction to Eugene.

 

It doesn’t hit him until Eugene is placing his empty shot glass down on the bar and running a hand through his hair saying “I’ll be back. I gotta take a leak.” It hits him like a god damn truck then. It hits so hard it feels like a near death experience.

 

He’s got this dumbfounded expression on his face, and he sounds near robotic when he suggests “I’ll go with you.” Yeah, that doesn’t sound suspicious. It shouldn’t though he thinks. Girls do it all the time. And so what if he has to take a piss too? It’s no big deal, he convinces himself, and Eugene acts accordingly, not even addressing it.

 

The two nudge their way through the crowd of people dancing and drinking and chatting on the sidelines. They manage not to lose each other the entire way to the back of the bar where the two restrooms stand side by side. Eugene pushes the door open into the empty club bathroom, and Keith is close in tow.  

 

The door closes behind them and Eugene is already unbuckling his belt at the furthest urinal. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Keith idling close by, hesitating. Eugene tilts his head in Keith’s direction, leveling him with a grin. “You gonna go or are you just planning to watch me?” he asks entirely jokingly.

 

Keith giggles nervously and shuffles from one foot to another. He feels like he’s been read to his deepest filth. He should be shying away at the furthest urinal from Eugene possible, but alcohol thrums through his veins like a heartbeat. It warms him up from the inside and makes his tongue feel loose. He touches his own face and looks sidelong at Eugene. “Is it weird that I kinda wanna hold it for you while you go?” Keith blurts out.

 

Eugene laughs. “Depends, that can have a few meanings. Like hold your pee or…?” Eugene presses him playfully. God why does he always make it feel so easy for Keith to confess the most embarrassing shit. Even when he’s stark sober, Eugene has this talent. He should have worked for the CIA or something, running interrogations.

 

“Like hold your…your dick,” Keith admits before burying his face in his hands. “I’m sorry, that is weird. I said it out loud and answered my own question. It’s fucking weird!” Keith giggles running a hand through his hair. He hopes if he hyena cackles hard enough at his own expense, that they can drop it.

 

Eugene shrugs though. “It’s not so weird, I’ve done it before.”

 

“What? When?” Keith demands.

 

“You were there! I had to hold Zach’s hips so he could pee out of the raft. Remember?” Eugene reminds Keith of when they were trying to survive on the ocean to promote _The Shallows_.

 

“I was mostly trying not to throw up again,” Keith recalls the worst sea sickness of his life. “Besides that’s like…different.” His face has to be beet red by now. He goes quiet, looking down at the floor, no longer waiting to steal a peek.

 

“Come here,” Eugene instructs him. Keith lifts his head, it feels like vertigo. He thinks he imagined it but Eugene cocks his head to the side. “C’mon. Behind me,” he insists. Keith stupidly stumbles over on clumsy feet trying to obey. “There you go, wrap your arms around me,” Eugene continues and Keith’s never followed directions so fast. He wraps his arms around Eugene’s middle and steps closer to him. His torso is flush with Eugene’s back, and if he tilts his chin down, he can rest it on Eugene’s shoulder.

 

Eugene carefully takes Keith’s hands and places his fingers over the button of his fly. “C’mon, buddy go ahead and get me out,” he encourages Keith. His breath smells of whiskey when he talks. Keith can’t believe their faces are this close together, or that Eugene is walking him through his fantasy like this. He looks over his own shoulder to make sure no one’s at the door or anything. It’s really ridiculous that they’re doing this like this. He’s giddy and terrified of being caught, like they’re kids playing a round of show and tell.

 

Keith swallows hard and takes the button between his fingers. He works it open with a pop. When Eugene doesn’t laugh at him and shrug him off, he reaches for Eugene’s zipper, slowly pulling it down, and then it can’t go any lower. Keith’s holding his breath as he reaches within the fly, fingers prying apart the front flap of Eugene’s boxers. His hand delves inside and pulls Eugene’s semi-soft cock out into the open.

 

Keith whimpers because he feels like he might just die then and there. Eugene feels soft, smooth, and fits so nicely in his hand. Keith looks down at it, really looks at Eugene’s dick in his hand, and God if it’s this big when soft. Well.

 

“Yeah, just point me like you would your own,” Eugene snaps Keith out of his haze with another gentle instruction. It’s odd to think of them as conjoined in this way. It helps none the less, as Keith supports and directs Eugene’s cock in the proper downward position. Eugene rolls his shoulders back and relaxes against Keith’s chest, and with a low groan he lets go.

 

There’s a lot of sensory intake from where Keith is standing that makes him feel dizzy. His chin is resting in the soft, warm crook of Eugene’s neck, from where he can smell his shampoo mingling nicely with his cologne. Eugene’s body is warm and firm, pressed against every inch of Keith’s body like they’re two perfect puzzle pieces. Keith wraps a hand around Eugene’s hip while the other works on aiming down into the urinal in front of them, and _God_ Eugene is leaning against him and just pissing a long, confident, steady stream.

 

He can kind of feel it flowing through Eugene’s dick, below the surface which makes his palm tingle slightly. The stream itself is what pulls a deep moan from Keith’s ribcage. There’s just so much, which shouldn’t be sexy in its own right but somehow is. At this angle Keith thinks he can understand the appeal, how it’s like making Eugene cum but more so. Keith digs his index and middle finger into the hip he’s holding and for a few seconds Eugene pisses more forcefully, his head falling back onto Keith’s shoulder with a moan.

 

Fuck, he’s completely trusting Keith to point him in the right direction now. Keith could easily move Eugene’s cock in a direction that’ll have him pissing all over his own shoes, and make a fool of him. He knows good, earnest Keith won’t though, and there’s something about that control that Eugene has over him that makes his cock twitch in his jeans.

 

 He can hear the stream dying down, the arch lowering closer to the rim of the urinal before coming to a stop. Keith’s hand slides down and he takes the head between his forefinger and his thumb, performing the obligatory shake that comes before tucking oneself back in and washing one’s hands. Keith doesn’t tuck Eugene back into his pants though. Instead he moves his hand along the underside of Eugene’s cock, stroking him from root to tip and feeling him harden in his hand.

 

Eugene shudders against Keith’s chest, his back curving into a sensuous arch against him. He starts to lengthen into a full erection and _fuck_ , there’s so much Keith wants to do with all those inches. Keith turns his hand into a tight channel around Eugene’s cock and twists his wrist over the tip as he works it up and down, dragging a slick path of pre cum in it’s wake.

 

Eugene’s breathing starts to get heavy. He grinds his hips like he’s dancing, thrusting slowly and hypnotically into Keith’s fist. Keith knows he needs Eugene to fuck him like that. He needs it so bad he doesn’t know how he’s lived without it all this time. It’s unlikely he’ll get it tonight, but he’ll get it he swears.  Eugene reaches a hand back, and it claws at the fabric of Keith’s shirt as it rests on his shoulder. He lets out a long moan that stops dead when they hear the low frequency thumping of the bass suddenly pouring into the bathroom.

 

Both of their eyes dart to the door, open just a crack, before it closes again, with no one having walked in. Eugene laughs weakly as he relaxes back into Keith’s hold. “We should probably take this to a stall, yeah?” he offers.

 

“We could still get caught,” Keith points out.

 

“Yeah, but at least they won’t see our faces. Most people will leave a stall fuck alone, cause it’s not out in the open,” Eugene says matter-of-factly.

 

“And you know this from your many forays into stall-fucking, yes?” Keith asks already feeling winded from the possibilities and scenarios that his imagination provides.

 

“I wouldn’t call it many,” Eugene argues defensively, “Come on, the big one, far right.” Eugene directs Keith. Rather than letting Eugene go to walk beside him, Keith pulls Eugene backwards into the stall, still drawn up tight against his chest. Eugene laughs giddily as he kicks the stall door closed. He slides his boot up from the middle of the door to push the rectangular lock mechanism into place, and then they’re safely sealed off from the world. At least, as safely sealed off as you can be in a club bathroom.

 

Keith spins Eugene around so that they face one another. Eugene lunges at him, pressing his mouth hard against Keith’s. It’s smothering and searing, and wet as Eugene pries his lips apart with his tongue. Keith pushes Eugene backwards into the white stone wall pushing a rough gasp from him, into his open mouth. Their lips smack together loudly as Keith pulls off from a kiss he doesn’t want to have to end, but he has other plans in mind.

 

“I want you in my mouth. God, I want all of you in my mouth,” Keith pants hot against Eugene’s lips. Eugene groans, simultaneously shocked and turned on by the filth pouring out of his friend’s mouth. Keith sinks to his knees in front of him. It’s disgusting, Keith thinks. He’s probably going to have to boil these jeans before he feels comfortable wearing them again, but he pushes it to the back of his mind as he wraps his hand around Eugene’s cock once more. It looks even more delicious from this angle.

 

Keith tilts his chin up and licks a long, broad stripe along the underside of Eugene’s shaft, cradling it in his tongue the entire way. Eugene’s hands scrabble for purchase along the wall. He feels like a livewire meeting the end of a battery. His whole body sparks up with sensation at the smallest touch Keith offers him. His head falls back against the bricks when Keith wraps his mouth around him, devouring him halfway down his shaft.

 

Keith’s thought about having Eugene’s dick inside his mouth probably as long as Eugene’s thought about being in it, which to both their dismay is a long fucking time. Keith slides back up to suck on the tip of Eugene’s cock, before bobbing his head forward again, taking more of Eugene with him. Keith has a relatively tamed gag reflex, and he’s just so damned determined to take all of Eugene. It makes Eugene’s knees weak how quickly Keith manages to meet his own knuckles at the base of his cock. Why is Keith so amazing at this? Because he’s done this before, or because he’s Keith?

 

Keith develops a languid pace, bobbing his head up and down along Eugene’s dick, tongue curling around the underside of his shaft, massaging deep into the vein and the slit on his cockhead. He sucks Eugene like he’s proud of it. He’s drooling down his chin, the spit is collecting in the shallow reservoir that dips between Eugene’s balls, along his sack. Keith’s fingers graze them, as his hand tightens around the base of Eugene’s dick, moving in a way that creates a tight suction to match his mouth. It’s overwhelming.

 

Eugene whines when that perfect hand leaves him. Keith reaches down to unbutton his jeans. He lowers his fly and the waistband of his boxers just enough to free the raging hard on that’s been busting his zipper since they got here. Keith whimpers around Eugene’s cock as he starts to stroke himself. He opens his mouth wider and sticks his tongue out along Eugene’s shaft, closing his lips around it and he looks up at Eugene with eyes like he’s begging.

 

Eugene’s hand slides into Keith’s hair. Gripping it tight in his fist, he thrusts his hips shallowly, experimentally forward. He hits the back of Keith’s throat and feels the vibrations as Keith moans around him like he’s getting fucked. “God, you’re getting off on this huh, baby?” Eugene growls. Keith hums enthusiastically in confirmation and Eugene rewards him with another hard thrust into his mouth.

 

Keith’s eyes roll back. It’s so heady, being completely at Eugene’s mercy as he fucks his throat, stroking himself off like some kind of desperate teenager on the floor. His eyes are watering and his glasses are off kilter on his nose, one of the temples of his glasses falling off his ear. His jaw is starting to hurt from holding it open wide enough, allowing Eugene’s thick cock the room it needs to slide all the way down his throat. His wrist is already getting sore from how furiously he’s working his leaking cock. He’s going to be fucking wrecked by the time Eugene is through with him.

 

The rhythm of Eugene’s hips breaks into a bunch of hard, fragmented thrusts. He can feel the muscles in his thighs spasming. His whole body is shaking and his knuckles go white where they pull at Keith’s hair. “Fuck, Keith. I’m gonna cum,” Eugene warns between closed eyes and harsh, panting, breaths. Keith takes Eugene all the way down to his base and uses his tongue to undulate along the vein, he swallows around the head of Eugene’s cock, and just like that Eugene is shooting his thick load down Keith’s tight, velvet throat.

 

It’s incredible and draining. It’s an orgasm that Eugene can feel down to his bones. He’s still gasping for air when Keith slides off his cock with a wet slurp of a sound. Eugene’s leaning heavily against the wall, heels digging into his boots, trying to keep himself standing. He looks down at Keith still stroking himself, and oh that needs to change.

 

“Get up here baby. Stand up,” Eugene commands, voice deep with lust. Keith is quick to his feet. He presses himself against Eugene, capturing his lips in a deep, needy kiss. Eugene wraps his hand around Keith and picks up where he’s left off. Keith starts thrusting erratically into Eugene’s fist, hips grinding his dick and Eugene’s fist into the space between them. Keith is clinging to his shirt like a madman grasping for sanity.

 

He’s nearly howling. He can hear himself echoing off the stalls, and there’s no way they can’t be heard from the outside, however loud the music may be. Their teeth clack together as they kiss, trading air like their each other’s only source of oxygen. Keith’s knees are wobbling. He can feel that heat spiraling, zeroing in on his balls and then he’s shouting into Eugene’s mouth, coming all over his hand in hot white ropes across his knuckles. Eugene wrings him out until his voice goes high, and he’s shaking all over. He feels like he might melt against Eugene and fall through the grates when Eugene finally has mercy and relinquishes him.

 

Keith sags against Eugene dragging him nearly halfway down the wall with him. His breathing is coming out in hot pants along Eugene’s jugular. He scans Eugene’s face just as he takes his cum covered hand up to his lips and _fucking licks_ his palm clean. Keith’s whole body shudders at the sight.

 

“Eugene I’m gonna…”

 

“You just came,” Eugene laughs.

 

“I’m gonna fucking keel over…like a frail old woman if you keep being so sexy. I can’t take it right now,” Keith explains through ragged breaths.

 

Eugene laughs and presses a firm, warm kiss against Keith’s mouth. “Don’t do that, I don’t think I’d be very good at catching you like this,” Eugene admits. Then his knees give out and he sinks to the floor, taking Keith down with him. Keith laughs hysterically and Eugene pulls him into his chest. It’s not a great place for this to happen. It’s fucking gross, and way too public. They’ll move back to Eugene’s place once they’ve had a chance to recover.

 

God the places Eugene’s gonna take Keith once they’ve had a chance to recover.

**Author's Note:**

> I am a beacon of shame  
> Companion song is Trini Dem Girls by Nicki Minaj because it's what I imagine playing at the club while they get it on.


End file.
